Besame Mucho - The Field of Hope
by DiamondSculpture
Summary: It is World War 3...war is on the horizon. The skies burn bright with the fires of impending war. The world is in upheaval...and a love story is told under the darkness of this fiery lit sky...in romantic Italy. There, within the romance of fields, two lovers meet, conversing the sparks of their love, one to match that fiery sky.


**Besame Mucho – The Field of Hope**

_It is World War 3...war is on the horizon. The skies burn bright with the fires of impending war. The world is in upheaval...and a love story is told under the darkness of this fiery lit sky...in romantic Italy. There, within the romance of fields, two lovers meet, conversing the sparks of their love, one to match that fiery sky._

**Chapter 1 – A Conversation of Love in the Fields**

I have always known him to be an intense man, eyes of the deepest azure, piercing with such devoted attention, and to stare into them then, was to as if asked to the surrender of all desires, just as it seemed he reflected back those desires onto you. And that was what he asked. He asked for love, a love long awaited, and to wait again, until the end of this war, with the promise that he will last this long. If he did...if I did.

The plains of Italy...where our home stood, now where the war awaited at our doorstep. The call of war, where men are summoned to the devotion of their lives, to cause and to God. My heart beats for it, just as it beats for you, words I do not say, but I will carry them into war, and with its strength I shall survive. "Oh Della..." I wrap my arms around her, just as I breathed those words into her ears. My heart pounded harder...I wonder if it will beat the same again after this war. "Wait for me, now that the skies of our world burn with a third Great War, and men are called to duty and country. Wait for me now, now that the blood of men fight for a Final Peace, one that will see to the end of all wrongs, as the free men of this world fight against the dark empire in the Far West, that land of the once free, now oppressed under the heel of the controllers of our world." The Illuminati, the traces of this final war carry its roots into the revelation of that organisation, and its attempt to take over the world by force at last. It was all thought to be an illusion, but it can never be viewed again as that. They had announced their presence to the world, ahead of a wish to enact what they call the Final Plan, the final domination and control of the free peoples of the world.

Italy will be fighting in this war, for the sake of the good, against the Illuminati, and so thus do all good men willingly lay their lives for this just cause, and even love must be separated, and rejoined at the flowering of hope in the distant future. _The place of the flowering of hope_...that's what I shall call this field of our meeting. And here, I place my promise with you..."Marry onto me, that I might see you at the end of this war, with our vows and pledges of love in my heart, carried upon the drafts of wind. They carry into the place of the flowering of hope, where we shall meet again, here."

"Where words fail to express, where words leave me...yet, with nothing said, I hope you will never leave me. Oh dear Della, wait for me until the end of this war. Wait for me until the end of time if you have to. I will come back for you...please wait." With those words, he parted. And I was left with nothing but emptiness...the emptiness of a love unfulfilled, without the warmth of that object of love to touch, to hold. A sorrow that he never had to hear my own words, the rest of my song, as I sung it in the depths of my being. Its resonance fills me, and I in all desires wish to impart it to him, that he may sing it back to me. _Besame Mucho...kiss me._

May we never part...in heart.

**Chapter 2 – The Rasp of Love in the Bedroom**

I made my way back, my heart full of longing for the time within the place of the flowering of hope, and for the secret that still laid within my bosom, unspoken. I reached home, and lay in my bed, an overcoming loneliness descending from the stars to wrap me in the solitude that was all I possess now. I in deepest surrender to Fate, fall asleep...if only that he will come back. Just one more time, to sing the song of my heart to me. And so he did.

In a storm he came, with all his primal intensity, barging in through the doors of our little cottage beside the field. "I thought you had to go..." I gasped. "I couldn't wait, not that long, not for one last embrace." And we cuddled in the darkness and made love, the deepest love I had ever. It was a love of longing expressed, before a great war, a spark that blossomed into a fire all-consuming, it scorched my soul. And then it was the end of it, and he had to leave. Before he parted, he parted with these words, and he said, "Dear Della, hear my cry in the wind, even if we are parted, I will be whispering in my heart that wordless vow; may those winds carry love to you. Kisses of longing expressed in sighs, they reach out to heaven, so that no matter where you are, you will hear it. You will feel it, in your heart."

And he made to leave, and I shot out my arm and caught his coat. "Look at me with those eyes of passion once again. Sing me the song of my heart before you go. _Besame Mucho_...it is whispered on my lips, and I long for it as I long for you. My desires expended onto you, hear the secret of my heart as you go to war, and feel it throbbing in your Roman blood of the hunger of my soul. It longs for you, and wishes that we may never be parted, by war or even this entire wretched world."

"But part we must..." Without turning back, he left, left me in the darkness wrapped in the coldness of solitude. I will have to see the place of the flowering of hope. If I could...if I could. _I will sing it in my heart to you my love, even as I leave for war. You will hear it, in this eternal bond of love that never parts. Besame Mucho. Intense eyes that long for you, afraid of our parting, that we may never meet again. The longing of that night shared...I will be so, so far away from you. Thinking that, tomorrow in distant lands fought and blood shed, it might have been the last time, the last time till we meet again. That night of desire spent, I will remember. All I am afraid it is it will be the last time...until the place of the flowering of hope._

**Chapter 3 – That War where Men Fight for Love**

A sky lit with fire, the fire of war. Scattering all hopes in the midst of the thunder of the devices of war, we marched with arms at the ready across far-off lands, in the wishes of victory. It has been several years and the war has prolonged itself, for the forces of the Illuminati are advanced and frightening. But we are not without recourse or measure. Employing the full might of the remaining free peoples of the world, of Europe and Asia and Africa, we marched on the conquered territories of the American continent. There at least, the enemy's reach had overpowered all the lands. We were to win this war, at all cost. The enemy may have better technology, but we have the will of our hearts. Countless of our men lay dying, and yet we trudged on. Even in the scattering of all hopes, one hope remains, the hope of reuniting with our loves in far-off lands...places that now exist only in dreaming.

I sing that song in my heart again, their verses rephrased, as I looked longingly into the distance, with far-off eyes, sparkling into that war-torn sky. _The fires of that night, they seem to match this sky. Fires of passion now imbedded in distant memory, of a lost night, of the hopes of reunion, at that place...at that place of the flowering of new hope. Kiss me, the song of your heart in mine, kiss me you say, and I send them to you, whispers in the wind that travel across time and space, to the place where it all matters, in your heart. The heart that remains still, the image of it is of that time and place, the place of the flowering of hope. Oh yes I am afraid of losing you, war overcomes, and only the eternal sigh remains. Carried aloft by winds into the heavens, where will we meet again? Forever sketched in memory, that place...that place of the flowering of hope. I only hope I could reach you there once more._

I had a dream of you. You came back in the same storm of that night, carried me aloft in your arms, and we made love again, just like the passion of that night, and with each soulful sigh and thrust, you whispered that same song to me. Sang me its undying tune..._Kiss me_. Oh long lost days, how I remember you. I remember your intense blue eyes, ones that pierced and left all in surrender. I surrender, I surrender, but say not those words to the enemy, in your march to war and victory. So that you may come back to me. The sky now is crying, a storm has gathered, and tears of heaven are falling. Falling for our love I hope, departed, and not for the lost of one brave soul in a wretched war that should never be. Come back to me...I hear your whispers of sighing in the wind. I wonder what to interpret of them, what they say I cannot tell. All I am left with is an irresistible longing...kiss me, kiss me once more. For that, I await your return.

The hard war fought, victory seems distant, but with the hope of the billions that remain of good will and strength, the tides turn slowly but surely. It is as if God is on our side. We hear thunder in the distance, but this time, it is the thunder of rain and lightning. It is raining, in a vast downpour, and I wonder within me if that rain reaches you? Is it a sky in upheaval, in reflection of a world in upheaval? Does this storm stretch from horizon to horizon? One wonders. It is a great deluge, one to rival all storms. And within this rain, the cybernetic technology of the Illuminati suffers and malfunctions. We seize victory, and with heaving, heavy hearts, we desire for home. It has been ten long years...I wonder if you still remember me. At that place...that place of the flowering of hope.

**Chapter 4 – At Last that Place**

Are we to be reunited at last? I wonder as I run with all abandon, free at last, free of duty, free of the chains of oppression, and free at last in a way that only the promise of true love brings...the union of souls, chained only by desire. I run, and the skies darkened at my approach, it is evening, and the cool night air fills me with more rigour than I imagine. _Besame Mucho_...I am free, free to sing that song once again. And you will be the one to hear those words, words that you so longed for, that I could not say back then. I am sorry, I had to make you wait this long. I love you, let us be married proper this time. That is what I want to say.

I run past that field, the field of flowers, that we call in our hearts, the place of the flowering of hope. It feels alive in a way that I have never felt before, the air tensing, or is it me? Is it me shaking with relief, that I can be back together with you, and spend an eternity of a lifetime together without separation again? I open the door to our cottage and storm in, with all the rigour of my soul, and I see you there, lying across the floor, with a note in hand. I approach you, but even without knowing why, tears flow down my face, and I know, I just know, I have lost you, even when I had gained the whole world. The whole world free, but my soul lies chained now, by grief. I hold you in my arms, your lifeless body, and find the note in your hand. I pick it up and read it. And here is what it says:

_Love, I remember everything, it flashes before my eyes even as I lay down for my final rest. It seems what they say is true, your entire life flashes before you at the moment of the onset of death. It flashes before me, and it fills me, how two hearts can travel across space and time, communicating at a depth beyond all that is tangible. Maybe what they say is true, the greatest love is God. It is He who united us in the first place, and will reunite us once again in the afterlife. There I await you. I did not tell you this, the "secret" of my heart, but I was diseased with a fatal illness. I did not say it to you, not the strength to say it, and it left me before just as you left me that day. Maybe I should have whispered in the winds, you might have heard it then, in far-off distant lands fighting a forsaken war that should never be. Goodbye my love, and see you. Heaven, I imagine it to look like...look like that place of the flowering of hope._

I run, this time to that place, that same field of the flowering of hope. There hope blossoms, each time with the coming of spring, and the winter of war is over. May there be a miracle? _God, I pray, just let me see her one last time, until the time again we meet in heaven. There we shall be married unto eternity. Here lies my promise, so promise me!_ And then I sang a song of my heart, to hers, to a romance of all of heaven. _Besame Mucho, kiss me, wherever you are, send kisses from heaven to that place of longing. I await you there. Upon the winds they carry, and I receive them with a smile, even as tears fill me, and threaten to fall. I see now, with my eyes of longing, staring off into the distance, to catch a glimpse of you, that you who visit me in dreams in distant lands, will come to me once again. One last visitation, for one night of passion. This time with the exchanges of sighs and whispered nothings. No words need be expressed, at this place of the flowering of new hope. That is what I carry within the timbres of my being, even with this song that touches heaven, the hope that I will see your face again. So come, appear to me in a vision of the most beautiful, and of the most divine._

And there I see her, her spirit wavers, but with a smile. Her eyes are crystal clear, and they pierce deeply into my own, a reflection of the strength of those whose love never dies. There are no tears to be shed, she convinces me, for we will meet in a better place, a better time. There two hearts will travel across time and space and never leave each other. That image of my mind still remains, there the picture of that field of longing, the place of the flowering of hope. There, with outstretched wings and open arms, that angel embraces me. I am comforted. I shall live a long life in honour of her. Goodbye, and see you. It was alright all along, as it appeared in my dreams, my angel.

_...Ciao..._


End file.
